


RT Warrior Cats

by LynnaeKenzington



Category: Red vs. Blue, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, Warrior Cats - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cats, Gen, Rooster Teeth as Warrior Cats BECAUSE WHY NOT, Warrior Cats AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-01-01 01:43:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12145926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynnaeKenzington/pseuds/LynnaeKenzington
Summary: Strays, Clan cats, and Kittypets unite under the power of relics; originally the engraving of a rooster fighting fanged jaws other such relics fuel the growing divide between the cats of the Rooster Teeth Clan. Now the spirits of dead warriors, a tower of gold, and a certain inescapable box canyon threaten the fragile peace they have come to know.Told from the point of view of the one cat to be everything: Kittypet, Stray, Clan cat, Clan leader, and king. They've called him Haystar, Haywood, Vagabond, and Ryan, but he started life as James....





	1. A Day Through My Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> i noticed no one had one an AU for this yet; thought of it as a challenge to do so.

  
To say any morning in the heart of camp was peaceful was a raucously overestimated presumption. One Ryan had regrettably realized during his early days with the Rooster Teeth Clan.

  
Though, more often than not, Haywood hardly dared to consider it a _**clan**_ at all.

 

             Firstly was the fact that the clan was _enormous_ , with more than a hundred cats milling about through their territory without much more than the license of the clan leaders.  
             Secondly being the aforementioned leaders; at least seven at the clan's founding now dwindled down to five: two of which acted as casual advisers, two others as actual authority, and one as a real adviser and manager.  
             Thirdly how said leaders had come to power after receiving the blessing of Starclan through a huge stone in the center of camp engraved with the relief of a rooster doing battle with a pair of disembodied fanged jaws.  
             Fourth was just the fact that they expected them all to believe Starclan would have anything to do with the inexplicably weird rock carving. One that had nothing to do with stars or cats and had everything to do with consuming their favorite prey. Even if the picture of said prey was larger than five full grown toms....  
             The fifth reason against this being a clan was simply the disorder of it. From what Haywood could see it was just a conglomerate of Rogues, Strays, former Clan Cats, and Kittypets; some of which escaped a laboratory and could be considered as mad as he was believed to be. Most of the cats still used their twoleg given names and many of the traditions that other clans so vehemently upheld were neither known nor wanted by the Rooster Teeth.

             In the former Haystar's opinion, this was no clan; simply a place for the wanted and wantful to find a home: a place befitting none but rogues and heathens.  
             His sharp blue eyes wondered over to where Ray was emerging from the Hunter's den, the tom's brown eyes shifting over to lock with those of the sand tiger's. Catching himself Ryan looked away and continued to groom.

  
             Yes... rogues, heathens, and _**thieves**_....

  
             Ryan Haywood guessed he fit right in with them now.

 

****

 

Burnie Burns. Quite an interesting yet fitting name for their co-clan leader. It fit his temperament nicely, as accountably more than twenty of his hour long speeches were spoken with ruffled fur and a hissing growl or spit.  
             Burns was majorly fluffy with rather odd fur; most of the time it seemed a flawless black, especially in sunlight, but at nightfall it seemed to turn a brilliant ghostly blue similar to that of his brother Church.

             If Burns was hissy Church, Church was far worse; though this was partly from having to deal with a rather loopy apprentice called Caboose. Were as _**most**_ everything Burns said was through anger, with Church it was _**just**_ everything.  
             From what Haywood had heard this was mainly because of everything he had been put through over the years: from the rejection and death of a mate to being experimented on in Freelancer Labs---and that time when their medicine cat went nuts and Tucker, **a tom cat** , somehow managed to give birth after their escape...

             Haywood could see how having to deal with anything, even just Heyman's youngster, would trigger some residual insanity. But still, the tom was far too overly aggressive.

             Caboose was just a playful little thing, one that Haywood was convinced would never age in mind because it was simply impossible for him to do so, having heard of the young tom's fear of 'catching pregnancy' and falling in love with a talking alarms system he called Sheila. His behavior was known to be odd, but not outside the bounds of the one he came from.

             It wasn't clear what the familial relationship was between Caboose and Heyman, only that they were related and that Heyman had raised and named him. Heyman himself was also quite odd in both his look and actions. He had dark muddled short fur that was ruffled from scars in places and seemed to slide over his lanky bones and the kinks of his broken tail.  
             Heyman tended to be a mystic of sorts, sitting on his rock and staring at everything nonchalantly before spitting out random wisdoms and nonsense. He was mostly a mystery. They knew he had been a stray before his time in the labs, earning names like a nora from the many twolegs that would pet and feed him---the most rememberable of theses being Joel before 'hey man'---, but other than that and his time in Freelancer none could tell where his wisdom or seemingly prophetic abilities came from.  
             The only ideas Haywood could think of were either some unknown magic from StarClan and it's relics, or simply madness opening ones mind up to a well of untapped thinkings.

  
             Ryan had had some experience with that.

…

It took a few moments for Haywood to realize he had been caught gazing at the debating leaders. He gave a flick of his tail in dismissal then made a show of grooming. This seemed to pacify them slightly. Ryan was known for staring and their noise wasn't exactly something that could be easily ignored. They quickly went back to arguing in lowered loud voices.  
             Gustavo was the last to turn away after shooting an undeserved glare. Haywood couldn't help but narrow his eyes at that. Gus was always the most suspicious, making up for all Hullum's unconditional trust. The long armed sphinx cat was alien and frightful in appearance alone, despite his patchy spots and glasses markings, but that seemed to have just made him more defensive.

             Hullum attempted to draw Gus back into the conflict conversation and grumpily he turned away.

             Haywood wasn't sure what to think of Rooster Teeth's main leader, the brown sugar ginger having given him many varying impressions. Hullum was kind and gentle and abnormally trusting, reasonable and understanding yet still determined to standing his ground when the matter called; he wasn't one for war, but it was clear he could handle one if it meant protecting the clan. Ryan could respect him for that, yet he still worried if the same acceptance that had allowed him to sneak his way in here would ever only endanger them more.

...

Haywood licked his paw and ran it over his ear, taking the chance to peer at them as the folded ear covered one of his eyes. They had stopped shooting him looks now, finding their attentions had better use in insulting each other. The ones that seemed most uninterested were Joel and Ramsey.

             Geoff, as he liked to be referred, was the only one who hadn't glared when he was noticed. Though, from the look in the hunter's glazed eyes it seemed he had drunk from his concoction again. It was strange, for only being friends with the medicine cats Ramsey tended to dabble with it quite a bit.  
             At some point he had found that if one left juice to spoil it became an unkillable liquid with many odd properties, and he had begun to produce the stuff with the seeds from the twolegs' golden field. Several of these properties were to kill any sickness that they were poured on, to help fire withstand rain, and to muddle the mind so that it forgot pain and fear near entirely, though caused it to increase once it was gone.  
             Many times he had been offered to partake of the 'ol' but Ryan had refused, aiming to keep his mind under his own controlled influences. He had failed at this a few times, but luckily the backlash hadn't managed to reveal too many of his darker secrets, and since then he had allowed the dirt colored tom to annoy the other hunters instead.  
             Ramsey tended to be quite lax about most everything, only gaining energy when it was around time for them to hunt. Or---more often than not---help him to compete in whatever event his inebriated mind had envisioned. These contests were most often dangerous and stupid, but as a founder and respected enough cat Geoff had a fair bit of leeway for whatever mad endeavors he thought necessary for his 'Achievement Hunters'.

Haywood couldn't help but smirk at the memory of their most recent 'Let's Play' as Ray had dubbed them. That twoleg would be finding straw in their nest and pelts for days, and it was only thanks to Free that they had realized that twolegs hated this.  
             Free, or Gavin, whichever the stray's preference was at the time, had a knack for understanding the oddities of twolegs and accurately describing what should be done about them. How he attained this knowledge, like Heyman's, was a mystery none knew, though they suspected it had to do with how his fur had turned a bright green with square patches that had never faded in all the time they had known him.  
             The addition to the clan of the purple bespectacled shecat Meg didn't reveal anything much, only that Gavin had been like that before her own 'dyeing' as she called it.

…

So many more with mysteries other than himself, and plenty more with oddities unnamed. There were over a hundred cats in the clan, most of whom he hadn't even seen. They all had jobs and duties within their hierarchy, which in itself was strange to begin with. Haywood was lucky he was so close to those who controlled it.  
             Luck, it was clear that Ray also possessed. Ryan's fur puffed at the very memory of it. When he had first come here and noticed RoseThief's unmistakable black and white tuxedoed pelt in the crowd.... he had been so afraid of dying that day. Why the banished rouge hadn't outed the fallen star, he still didn't know, though he doubted that the reasoning behind it could be anything kind. Not after what he had done to the young tom in vengeance.

…

Shaking away the memory and stretching Ryan followed Geoff's lead out of camp as the leadership dismissed, early to his call for the hunters to head out to 'AH office' before their assigned hunting areas.  
             Free appeared out of nowhere, nothingness, and a bush to stand beside and chirp joyfully at Ryan, the camouflaged oddity being one to favor his company. The short scruffy grey Jeremy soon joined them, breaking off his conversation with the purple and orange Rimmy Tim (who his relationship with was still undefined in Haywood's eyes). The sandy red Matt Brag and thunder-path-snow look-alike Trevor bouncing along after Lil J. The large curly haired ginger Jack padded slowly up to them not long after, his mane shimmering cooper in the morning rays.  
             Geoff gave a frown, needing his spot coated forepaws into the soil as they waited for their final member, a withering glare sent towards the nursing queen's den. Without much more patience Ramsey set towards the den at a quick march, most likely planning to oust the former by means of force.  
             Farthest from Ryan Ray snickered darkly. "Not sure who to root for," the tuxedoed tom joked, "either way it's a contest of two bitchy queens." Some of the others laughed at that. Ryan didn't. He knew all too well what was going on inside the den.

****

"Mogar," Geoff said testily, "it's going to be a few more weeks before the birth: you can leave the den long enough to bring back some kill for your Mrs." the bear like tom just growled at his elder, curly brown red fur ruffled as he paced around his plump mate. Lindsay herself wasn't helping much, observing the two riled toms with amusement. Even in this state she was astoundingly beautiful, her brilliant crimson fur only outshone by Sarge's fire-monster red.  
             Beside them Geoff's mate Griffon, Mrs. Ramsey as he loved to call her, was watching with apprehension as her mate slowly lost his patience with the first time father. Millicent, their own kit, was still happily in her own world as the grownups swore over her head.

 


	2. Our Every Oddity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't think the cat vs soda can thing is made up; Ari's tried and Cotton (my newly dead dog as of the day after Christmas) proved animals can get addicted to soda (as a puppy stealing my mom's Pepsi bottles and drinking all she could of it).

'AH Office' was located in a thick bush some ways away from camp and was a prime example of the Hunters odd infatuation with twoleg things. On the whole they could easily blame Gavin for everything, but in reality his oddities had spread to the rest of them rather easily once they realized the potential of the lost junk.  
           The center floor of the bush had been covered with a plantlike soft pelt that Free insisted was called a 'rug' which was black save where it was emblazoned with what was apparently a green star with what Gav called a 'knob' in its center.  
           Ryan had never really known what the symbol meant, only that the twoleg near them had a plethora of items that bore it which the hunters often stole for themselves. Though that wasn't all they had hidden in the den, as each had their own corner filled with their chosen treasures.  
  
Gavin, as the source of all this hoarding, had by far the most and most useless of the lot, with the majority of it falling into Micheal's space and driving him crazy. Free tended to gravitate towards the exceptionally odd yet he also had a thing for twoleg toys, often hiding within the pile shrugged with a twoleg plushy that had his odd camouflaged markings.  
            Sometimes, Haywood admitted to himself, he thought it was cute to see Free dozing off with the 'Gavy Wavy Creeper' clutched in his forepaws, ear folded and eye closed as he rubbed his cheek against it until he eventually fell asleep.  
  
Micheal's space, adjacent to Gavin's, was in essence where Gav's possessions went to die. Mogar had happily made a nest out of their white puffy innards and shed pelts, with by far his favorite being the skin of what Gavin had called a 'teddy bear' which he liked to slip into and chase Free around in whenever he needed to remind the tom to 'clean his shit up'.  
  
Jeremy, who shared his space with Rimmy on occasion, had decorated everything in the colors of his favorite tom. From miniature thunderpath monsters to pelts and random unidentifiable things everything was orange and purple except for a red and while ball plush with glaring eyes he called 'Voltorb' that he was as infatuated with as Free was with 'Gavy Wavy'.  
            Once, Free and Mogar had had the bright idea to drag the entire contents of Jeremy's area into a nearby tree, saying that they gave him a 'raise'. Lil'J had nearly burst out crying when he found out what they did, but it wasn't half of the reaction he'd had to the discover of his 'secret room' which had been dug into the tidal ebb of the nearby lake.  
  
Ray had his area on Gavin's other side, which was mostly taken up only by a full sized hooded purple pelt, a pair of 'checkered' paw coverings, and a pink hard shelled rectangular box which Ray had figured out how to make noises come out of. When he wasn't messing with the 'shoe strings' he could often be found staring at this device and pressing the bumps on its open surface, or waiting impatiently in a sunny spot for it to awaken after its voice had gone silent.  
            Seeing as Ray was never one of a nap he was often a nuisance to sunbathers, something Haywood himself had lucked out on due to his own sleepless nature.  
  
Beside Ray's space was Jack's and Geoff's, and just off from there Matt and Trevor's. There wasn't much there beside some comfortable nests, of which Jack's was sky blue floral while Matt's was red; and odd hard shell building stones which the three often puzzled over arranging. Geoff meanwhile had set up his 'ol' manufacturing in most of his area, even discovering twolegs were aware of the substance from dark 'bottles' which smelled strongly of it and were very useful for storage.  
  
That left the only remaining area as Ryan's and Lindsay's shared space beside Jeremy's. Lindsay, like Gavin, had taken to acquiring plushies; though in her case she was obsessed with the ones that appeared to be of cats. She often looked like a proud queen among her many kits and she so enjoyed it, unable to pick a favorite besides all of them.  
             Now that their 'mother' was due to have real kits the imitations sat alone and unloved. Oddly, Micheal and Ryan both had the idea to comfort them for her, but tried to do so as discretely as they could so the others wouldn't notice.  
  
Haywood's own nest was rather plain, even compared to Jack and Mogar's. The most striking features about it were a black twoleg skull made from bendable hard shell which he often hid inside and started out the eyes of; and a golden hard shell ring with tall points on the top which appeared to have cracked down the centerpiece. Inside this 'crown' as Free had defined it he had placed a 'plaid' pelt which he often used as a bed when they rested at the 'office'. Ryan also had come to find 'Diet Coke Cans' fascinating, enthralled with the shine, sent, and taste. And as a result had many of them hidden around and within Lindsay's false brood.  
              Once, Haywood had come across an unopened 'can' and batted it around in frustration as he consistently failed to get at the liquid within. In the end he had taken to clawing at the top, trying the pull the loop up like on all the other cans, when it had suddenly hissed at him and he jumped away in fright; hiding inside the skull and giving it his wide, fearful blue eyes. The can had eventually stopped hissing, and when he ventured back to investigate Ryan had discovered that it had opened the smallest fraction, releasing bubbles of the tasty insides. Even more carefully than before he had finished pulling the tab up and knocked the can into one of the deeper green star dishes, where he had happily lapped up his first officially full Diet Coke.

***

When they arrived Ramsey jumped up on his 'chief helmet' in order to address his followers properly, giving them the lowdown on their newest assignment.

The hunters were going on a deer hunt. Matt, Trevor, Ray, Gavin, and Geoff all runners while Jeremy, Rimmy, Micheal, and Ryan wait to pounce from the trees. Jack waiting nearby at the path's end in order to help deliver the killing blow.

 

***

 

Meanwhile back in camp the other cats were up to their usual sunbathing chatter circles. A yellow shecat called Barbra had formed a cluster with several other shecats and their apprentices; including young Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang. Contrary to 'always open' Jon Risinger had formed a rather noisy 'on the spot' challenge circle where members of the 'FunHaus' and 'ScrewAttack' Hunters and Warriors were facing off in the battle of witty jokes while 'kinda funny' provided what was turning out to be much wittier commentary at Jon's expense.

  
             Burnie frowned, his ears and tail twitching impatiently.

  
             Where the hell was Church?! RvB should have been back with those herbs sun arcs ago!

"Hagan!" Burns yowled for his remaining brother, the grayer and noticeably (marginally) calmer tom approaching hesitantly.

             "This is about Church isn't it." The warrior deadpanned on arrival. The co-clan leader didn't bother to ask, yet Hagan told him anyway. "His kits are worried, and are bothering Meta and Mindy." Burnie sighed, knowing that any minute now he was going to have to deal with Delta, Sigma, Theta, Gamma, Eta, Iota, and Epsilon about what happened to their father.  
             "Look," Burns ordered, biting back a migraine, "I just need your team to make sure they aren't lost somewhere in a cannon again, alright?" Hagan nodded and called for his fellow scouts. "Woody, Zach, Herman!" All three remaining members of 'LazerTeam' were on their paws at once, Zach, Micheal's younger brother, bounding over with a grin he usually reserved for slicing open a deer.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comment if you want more story: if not I'll only add when I figure out how to phrase it perfectly. That could well be a year from now.  
> Writing is my career, not Fanfics, so I have to spend time on my series as well. This is just me doing some practice and having fun.
> 
> \---also comment if you want art of them as cute kitties! I'll figure out how to post it! : )


End file.
